Purple Summers softly murmured "Mmm," and said, "It's too cold; I was about to go back."
Even if it hadn't been cold, she wouldn't have wanted to stay in the garden alone with Nathaniel Summers.
As she turned to leave and had walked a few steps, Purple Summers hesitated.
She turned her body slightly, looking over at Nathaniel Summers, who was not far from her—he had his back to her, facing the artificial lake, with the cigarette between his fingers flickering in the darkness, his tall figure appearing especially cold and lonely.
As if sensing Purple Summers's gaze, Nathaniel turned his head to look over, his mouth curving into a smile, "What's wrong?"
Purple Summers asked him, "How did Sheldon Fowler die?"
Nathaniel's smile was cool and his voice slow, "Why are you asking me? Sheldon died at Walker Entertainment City. You should be asking Alexander Summers, it's his turf after all."
